The Women He Loved
by LadyFangs
Summary: Spock spends years searching for love- when he had it all along. Features prominent Spock/Uhura, Spock/Leila, Spock/Christine, Spock/sexy Romulan Commander, Spock/Droxine, Spock/Zarabeth...you get the point! Will try to keep this T. M will be outtakes.
1. Chapter 1 Nyota

_Author's Note: After several people urging me to write more in the TOS Universe I am now doing so. I love TOS. Here is my offering. Enjoy. _

**Disclaimer: If I owned, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now.**

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First Encounters**

The first woman he ever loved aside from his mother was Nyota Uhura. He could use the excuse that "love" was not in the Vulcan vocabulary- that such emotion was illogical- but just because something was illogical that did not render it false.

That was a bit of knowledge he had gleaned early in life from his mother. Who, despite all her heartbreak at his and his father's expense, still loved them both. It was illogical, yes. But it was true.

As he reflected over past events, he realized it had begun with her arrival on the Enterprise. He remembered that day well.

_She was part of the new crew, set to take over from Captain Pike. He was set to be first officer- the job of Captain had been offered, but he found that he had no desire for command. And so the position had gone to his new Captain, the young James T. Kirk. Pike had said they would make a good team. Kirk was energetic and bold- a brilliant strategist. While Spock's own cool logic and even-tempered yet indomitable nature would act as a system of checks and balances. And now, here they were- waiting side-by-side to greet the person presently materializing on the transporter._

_The swirl of bright lights quickly coalesced into a figure- a very feminine one, and Spock found himself looking into big, bright honey-brown eyes. He was transfixed._

_She was beautiful. And she was young. He had not expected this. Nyota Uhura was proficient in 83-percent of federation languages. She had extensive knowledge in communications engineering, had published numerous papers on inter-species relations and first-contact exploratory studies._

_The woman in front of him could not have been more than 25, at the most. Uncharacteristically, and before his own mind could even begin processing his actions, he stepped up to help her off the transporter, extending his hand._

_She smiled up at him and as she moved forward, she missed a step and fell- right into his arms- and he looked down at her, and she at him with a shy smile, and he felt a stirring in his heart. At the time, he believed himself to be experiencing a technical malfunction with his internal regulator, and quickly helped her stand straight. She looked quite abashed, yet he knew his own face revealed nothing. _

_He turned to the Captain, hands clasped behind his back. "Captain Kirk, this is our Chief Communications Officer, Lieutenant Nyota Uhura". This time, Kirk stepped forward, taking her hand and giving it a firm shake._

"_Lieutenant, welcome aboard the Enterprise."_

From that first day, he found that he paid more attention to the Lieutenant than was necessary. He was drawn to her- it was not something he could explain. The way she smiled. Her easy-going charm. Her brilliant mind and her beautiful voice. But it was more than that. She was like a nova. Her burning intensity made him distinctly uncomfortable-yet he found he could not bring himself to refuse her gentle touches on his person- never lingering for long and never made in an intimate fashion. He found she touched everyone the same way. Nor could he resist granting her any request she made of him…And he became increasingly aware of her- not as a fellow officer, but as a female- a member of the opposite sex…

There was one such occasion that he began to realize the depth of his emotional attachment to her…

_She had let out an exasperated sigh. It was her fifth in the same span of time. The ship was quiet. Kirk had beamed down to some planet for a routine checkup of the science team stationed there. Dr. McCoy had gone with him, leaving Spock in charge, as usual. It had been a calm day, and the crew went about their tasks with practiced ease. The Vulcan was presently reading through the last set of reports he had been given when he noticed an anomaly._

"_Lieutenant Uhura- your last report contained an error in the frequency column."_

_He followed her movements with his eyes as she sauntered up to his chair- a light swish of her hips- and he found himself admiring the aesthetics of the place where her small waist rounded out… She knelt down on the side of the chair and rested her arms on the arm of it, looking up at him- those eyes. Big and brown, they focused on his own, and Spock felt- not like she was seeing him- the physical him…but the _other_ him- the one he hid from the world…_

"_Why don't you tell me I'm a fascinating young lady, or ask me if I've ever been in love?"_

_Spock shifted uncharacteristically, pulling at his collar and clearing his throat. She always managed to do this to him. No other woman- human or Vulcan, for that matter- did this. He felt his temperature rise, but he did not answer. He had no words to tell her just how accurate her own self-assessment was…_

_She continued…_

"_Tell, me, how does Vulcan look on a lazy evening when the moon is full?"_

"_Ms. Uhura, Vulcan has no moon." The instant the words left his mouth and he saw the expression on her face- he felt his stomach drop._

_Suddenly they were interrupted by Kirk's voice from the surface. A man had just died…_

_Spock's ambivalent reaction had caught her off guard._

_She replied with anger. "You're not going to do anything? A man just died down there!"_

"_My demonstration of concern will not change what has happened. The transporter room is well manned and they will call if they need assistance._

_It did not take him long to realize this was the wrong reply._

She did not speak to him again casually for weeks afterward. He found that he missed her inclusion of him in bridge conversations- though he had felt distinctly uncomfortable when she had done so before.

She was respectful, always dignified towards him, but there was now a decidedly lacking sense of warmth radiating from her when it came to him.

He needed a way to rectify the situation.

And soon, he had his opening.

_He had finished his evening meditations, and after a call from Captain Kirk, he had decided to meet his superior officer in the recreation room for a game of chess._

_The crew was on light duty, patrolling in a stable section of the quadrant. There was not much of a threat here._

_Upon entering, he had found the room alive with activity and people in various stages of entertainment. Some were dancing. Others played cards. Still more engaged in simple conversation. And on the side of the room, a small stage had been erected for performances._

_It was there he first heard her voice. It was full and rich- so melodic yet full of emotion and he again felt that now-familiar stir in his heart as her smooth contralto flowed through him. He recognized the tune immediately- the Ave Maria…_

_He left the rec room and returned a short while later- his own lyre in hand. She had now moved to the second movement. He made his way to the side of the stage, and looking up, he saw he had indeed caught her eye. She smiled and nodded in response to his unanswered question, and so he began to play…the sound of an-all-too-human voice and Vulcan harp interweaving and circling and wrapping in observers in the now-still room…_

It was from that performance that she had asked if he would teach her how to play, and he obliged. They would meet in the rec room once a week- neither venturing into the other's personal quarters for mutual respect of space. And to avoid the appearance of anything that may be interpreted as untoward. _After all_, Spock had thought. _It is_ _merely two colleagues collaborating_. _Nothing more._ At least…that was the truth he told himself- ignoring his mounting emotions in her presence.

He had an inkling of when her feelings for him began to change, and he thought that maybe, just maybe…they could be something more…

"_Humm…hmmm…..hmmm...hmmmm….hmmmmm"_

_He stopped playing and shot a look at the melodic hummer. A bright smile greeted his stern expression and he found he could not hold it for long._

"_I'm sorry, Mr. Spock."_

_Rolling her eyes as she grinned at her companion, he found that his own sly smile had eased across his normally placid features._

_She was bending over a table- the already short-skirt of her uniform inching higher and giving him a most excellent view of well-toned legs…that turned into muscular thighs and curved into a most gracious…_

_He swiveled around in his chair, flexing his fingers against the lyre and smirking at her. She eyed him- and he noted those eyes were focused on his hands as they gently strummed the instrument…she closed her eyes- inhaled…and opened them…her own sly smile matching his as she began to move towards him…again humming…_

"_Oh on the Starship Enterprise, there's someone who's in Satan's guise-_

_Whose devil ears and devil's eyes…Could rip your heart from you!_

_At first his look could hypnotize…and then his touch would barbarize…And rip your heart from you!_

_And that's why female astronauts, oh very female astronauts, Wait terrified and overwrought…_

_To find what he will do…._

_Girls in space be wary! Be wary, be wary! Oh! Girls in space be wary…we know not what he'll do"_

_He was Vulcan. Not blind. Nor dim…and just as surely as her eyes once again met his…and he felt the gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder…he wanted to immediately take her…_

_But he could not. It would not be fitting of an officer of either of their ranks…_

_And so, he could do nothing but let it go…_

It was several weeks after the encounter in the rec room that he found himself leaving the bridge to return to his quarters. Since then, he had taken special care to reign in his growing attraction to the Lieutenant. Their lyre lessons had continued, though he had exuded a strictly professional air so stifling as to ensure she would not misinterpret his actions as anything but.

Now as he entered the turbo lift, he found he was not alone…

_The doors closed. And he looked down into those same eyes that seemed to always see clear through him to his soul._

_He felt his breath catch, but he did not break eye contact. And neither did she. When she spoke, her voice was low, and questioning._

_She had inadvertently moved closer to him and the fact that she was now inside his personal sphere and he was so close he could smell her- began to wage war with the emotions he was struggling to control._

"_Mr. Spock…have I done something to offend you?"_

_The eyes remained on him._

"_No, Ms. Uhura. You have performed admirably."_

_Silence. Long, tense. And laced with unspoken words between them…what was he to say?_

_Slowly, the eyes lowered back down, and she moved away from him. The distance made his body go cold- even from the brief warmth of her nearness moments ago._

"_Alright, Mr. Spock. I accept that. Also, I believe that we should discontinue our lessons. I know that Vulcans don't lie- but I do not believe that you are incapable of subterfuge. I have made you uncomfortable. And I apologize, sir."_

_He did not know why, but her words and her tone unnerved him and he moved towards her quickly. One hand hitting the STOP button on the lift, and sealing them between levels._

_Soon he towered over her small frame- and reaching out- he grabbed her, pulling her close against his body._

_With his other hand he reached for her face, cupping her chin gently yet firmly- raising her face to his._

"_Ms. Uhura- you unnerve me. I do not find you simply beautiful- to me, you are perfect."_

_It was that night, secluded now in his quarters, that he first made love to her._

It was not his first time. Nor hers. But it was theirs, together. And he had ignored his inner voice that told him it could not last.

_***_

_He could not give her the passion she craved. He could not be with her publicly. He loved her privately, but he knew- and she knew- it was not enough. He could not say it.  
_

_He could not bring himself to acknowledge the thing that was "them". He took her body nightly. But he could not let her into his mind. He was pushing her away from him slowly- while at the same time trying so desperately to hold on to her…and she knew it._

_She was not a weak woman. She was not an overtly emotional woman. She was a woman of substance- one who was intimately aware of who and what she was. And she knew…_

_And he knew…_

_And it was over between them after Omicron Ceti III. Her name was Leila. Leila Kalomi.  
_


	2. Chapter 2 Leila

_**Author's Note:** I am skipping Nurse Chapel Right now- because she appears in more than one episode I want to explore her later on in the story. But these will go in order (mostly) of the women's appearances in TOS. Also...it will eventually be S/U...But I love Spock's women- so each gets her own ode. Call it a road to discovery._ Thanks to beta Aphrodite who edited...but if there are mistakes, they are mine as I have a tendacy to go back in and tweak!

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A Bitter Goodbye- Leila**

They had transported down to the surface of Omicron Ceti Three braced with the knowledge that the science crew was long deceased. That assumption seemed to be confirmed upon arriving to the surface of the planet and seeing structures- but no people. Until they appeared. And around him he felt his fellow officer's relief. Long ago he had learned to be surprised at nothing, and he approached each situation with a scientist's curiosity. To him this situation would seem to be no different than the many others he had encountered. Until they were escorted into a small home. And until _she_ walked through the door and he was struck silent.

It had been six years since he'd seen her last…six years since they'd been together and in the time they had been parted he had not thought of her since- forcing her to the back of his mind…but now, once again so close to her he could smell the light scent of flowers she wore…the memories of what they had shared years ago came back with a force that temporarily struck him dumb…

_He was on a sabbatical leave from the Enterprise and from Starfleet. Though he was an officer, he had found employment as a civilian, working in an agrarian biological research lab on Earth._

_It had not been by his choice to take this leave. After an administration review of his service record for his annual evaluation Starfleet had determined that their best science officer had never taken leave in his entire five years of active service- and they had forced the sabbatical on him. _

_For a Vulcan mind, simple idleness would not suffice as "rest" and so he found "relaxation" in the peaceful array of the many different species of intergalactic plants and hybrids around him._

_He enjoyed the calm, meditative state he entered as he worked. The labs were mostly silent, and the myriad of colors emanating from the planets surrounding him only enhanced his content. _

_In a sense, he could identify with the horticulture. Most of the species were far from their native habitats, and quite a many more where born of two worlds- much like the half-Vulcan who attended them daily._

It was among the calm serenity of the lab's green house, surrounded by rows and rows of different flora where he first met her. He had been working late in the lab, as was he wont to do, when he heard the smooth _hiss _of the paneled doors slide open. Light footsteps approached the station where he worked.

He could tell that the person who entered had no idea he was there.

He turned to acknowledge the visitor and was surprised by what he saw.

_She was tall and willowy. Her hair was the color of wheat and the white pants jumper clung to a very ample and very feminine form. _

_The overhead lights hummed and flickered against the clear panes that separated the night above from the glowing brightness surrounding him. _

_She was walking towards him engrossed in the PADD in front of her. He did not know whether to alert her to his presence or move out of her way and so he decided upon the later._

_He stepped out of the walkway and turned- right as she did and instantly they collided into each other._

_She let out a surprised yelp as she tumbled- the PADD flying one way and her body moving towards the ground. She reached out for balance, grabbing the first thing in reach-him._

_He did not know how it happened nor when in the process of falling they had switched positions but he wound up on the floor and she on top of him. And he found himself staring into very ample breasts._

_She was more than startled as she scrambled up off of him, apologies coming forth from lush, full lips and he found himself rising off the floor as well._

_She started to apologize again but he held up a hand to stop her._

"_I am Spock." He replied, looking down at her. She looked up at him, a slight blush coloring her cheeks…_

"_Leila. Leila Kalomi."_

_It was their first meeting…but not their last…_

He discovered that Leila was a botanist at the laboratory and that she had created most the hybrid plants he now saw before him. It was strange that they had never crossed paths before. Strange, but not unusual.

Through conversation he discovered that Leila usually worked nights, while he tended to work in the day.

And as time wore on, he found himself increasingly drawn to the botanist.

It started subtly enough- simple lunch meetings, a conversation between scientists. Though her beauty had been what had first taken him he quickly realized she was a most brilliant scientist. He became aware of a growing attraction towards the female and worked to tamp down the thoughts that lingered at the back of his mind when she was near.

But there came a point when he could no longer remain in denial of what he felt for her.

_It was late. He had decided upon further exploration of a new species of plant recently discovered on Omicron Ceti I- a long, tubular structure that instead of photosynthesizing…seemed to draw its nourishment from the emotional state of others._

_Fascinaing._

_He read the accompanying reports-depending on the emotional state of the creatures around it, the flower would bloom, or shrivel as if dehydrated. _

_Right now, in his presence- it did nothing._

_He studied the plant in front of him, removing the glove from his hand to touch it- no reaction._

_Strange, he thought, and read the report again._

_He was made aware of another presence entering the lab by the subtle beep of the door and a hiss._

_The sound of now-familiar footsteps approaching gave him pause, and he turned to greet her. She stopped when she saw him, a bright smile crossing over her lovely face._

"_Mr. Spock! I didn't expect you to be here!" she said with enthusiasm. He felt a warmth flow through him at the sight of her._

Illogical_. He thought, turning away to focus on the plant._

_She came up to stand next to him, looking over at what had currently drawn his attention. He heard her let out an exclaimation._

"_Oh! That's the new plant that just got here today from Omicron Ceti One! I read the report and I can't wait to study it! May I join you Mr. Spock?"_

_Again, that smile. And those eyes…_

_He turned to look at her and blue eyes met his own. _

"_You may Ms. Kalomi," he said, surprised at the depth in his voice as he addressed her. He had yet to tear his eyes from hers, and likewise._

_And they remained there, for what seemed an eternity. She was close, and he could feel her temperature rising. Her heart-rate increase and he felt a sudden, overwhelming need to reach out and pull her close to him…to explore the smooth contours of her body and to learn what she tasted like…._

_He abruptly tore his gaze away and turned back to the plant. She did the same and when they both gazed at the flower they saw that it had turned a lush green color- a far cry from the almost pale- brown it had been._

"_FASCINATING."_

_They whispered at once- at the same time. And raising their eyes once again from the plant, looked at each other in surprise._

_On the table, their fingers touched._

_Bolts of electricity shot between them and in those sparks he felt her emotions- trust, love, happiness…desire…_

_They radiated through him and before he could process what he received from her his human side took over wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close to his body, his mouth finding hers and soon, they were both falling down…down…down into the bottomless abyss of lust and desire._

_And he took her there. On the floor. His own desires controlling him and soon he was drowning in her warmth, and bringing the both of them to completion...only the plants to bear witness to their passion and in the throws of extacsy neither one noticed that the flower on the table had began to glow a bright green…and blossom…releasing its own spores into the air as if to pollinate…as they two of them continued their own lessons in xeno-biology…._

Leaving her had not been easy. It was time to go. He had not told her that he would be heading back to Starfleet and back to space. Their time together had been precious, and he did not want to disrupt her happiness. But his year was up. And he must return. He had obligations to fulfill..

_He looked upon the sleeping form curled in his arms and gently brushed the soft hairs away so he could see her face._

_She looked in perfect peace, and it was how he wanted to remember her- a hint of a smile playing at the corners of the mouth that he had kissed every night for the past seven months. He did not want to bear witness to the tears he knew would come, nor hear the sound of the cry that would surely follow. He wanted to hold this memory as his reminder of Leila in his mind. Peaceful. Happy. Beautiful…_

And so it was, in the wee hours of morning, that he left her apartment and returned to the Enterprise. He had shipped his belongings off to the Enterprise days ago, and as the ship left space dock, to resume its mission, he could not help standing on the observation deck, hands laced behind his back in his usual stance, staring out across the blackness at the bold blue and white orb floating in the expanse beyond.

"_Lieutenant Spock to the bridge"_

He turned to exit, yet hesitated briefly, turning once again to stare out the windows- the blue captivated him…the same blue of the eyes belonging to the woman he had left behind on Earth…

_And now those blue eyes bore into his again. Six years later. How could he have forgotten her? Why did he leave her? He could not remember the reasons, as the toxins flowed through his system bringing him a sense of freedom and euphoria he had never known. _

_Now, all he could see was her. All he could feel was her…and she was his world. For the first time in his life, he felt…happy…_

_They made love that day. In the grass. Under the trees…he learned her body all over again, and each touch each sweet kiss threw him into a state of complete euphoria…and when the Captain had called- he found that he was able to express sentiments he'd long kept dormant. And he felt…freed…_

_Until…_

"_What makes you think you're a man? You're a jack-rabbit with an overactive thyroid!"_

_He had tried desperately to focus…to stay away…_

"_Your father was a computer, like his son. A traitor from a planet of traitors……disloyal to the core, rotten- like the rest of your sub-human race…"_

_He couldn't…he couldn't...he saw his happiness slowly fading…_

"_And you have the gall to make love to that woman."_

_It was over. His happiness had quickly faded out to something much more dangerous. Rage. Hateful, blinding rage that consumed him and he attacked- lunging for his captain's head , determined to silence the echoes of the taunts in his mind._

_Until…_

_Until he was prepared to deliver the death blow and his haze finally cleared and he saw his Captain lying before them- prepared for the strike._

_The events of the day came to him with a force and he felt an overwhelming sense of …shame._

_But it was more than that…_

_And they worked. To restore order. To bring back the crew. To free the ship. _

_And he was able to hide his own emotional disorder until…_

_Until he heard her voice. And he knew then what he had to do…_

_As he stood facing her she could not help but think that this was the scene he had so desperately wanted to avoid six years before…_

_But this time her hurt cut through any semblance of control he had left. He presented a stoic face- yet inside…inside he hurt too…_

_And she cried…and threw her arms around him…and he untangled them gently…_

_He was forced to see her tears…forced to hear her cries and all he could bring himself to say was the one thought that rang through his mind…_

"_We all have self-made purgatories…"_

_Yes..Purgatory…and he learned quickly… it was a place worse than hell…_

It was later that night. Now alone in his room with his own thoughts to accompany him, he was beginning to sort through his emotions. What he felt for Leila. He had just finished a sonic shower and was dressed only in meditation pants, his hair still wet when his door chimed- a visitor.

With a sinking feeling in his heart he knew who it was before he admitted her. He had not thought of her all day- other circumstances prevailing but now the full scope of what he had done came forth like thunder…

He tried to prepare himself.

"Enter"

The door opened revealing _her. _She walked towards him with purpose, her own countenance radiating a calm sadness that he found disquieting.

She was so beautiful. So elegant, short in stature but graceful and fluid in her movements and he knew that this was the end…

She was now directly in front of him and they were inches apart, brown eyes-not blue ones once again met his in a way they had so many times before…

"You loved her."

It was a statement. Not a question and he knew she was not expecting any such confirmation of the fact, but it burned in his soul that the words that had flowed so smoothly hours before refused to come forth at a time when he desperately wanted to bring them forth.

"She made you happy."

Rhetorical. She was speaking to him, but to herself and though he remained still, his face frozen in an emotionless mask he wanted to cry out to her to stay…he wanted to tell her it was not a true state of happiness…that she was what he desired…what he craved…but the words would not come…and so he remained silent…

"I can't do this anymore, Spock. You're not being fair to me."

He looked into the big brown eyes that had captivated his heart from the first day she set foot on the Enterprise. He felt a sense of dread wash over him, but refused to acknowledge it. He didn't want her to go…he needed her…

"Very well, Ms. Uhura. I have no choice but to comply with your wishes."

The words came forth from his lips but behind them his mind pleaded with her…_Please don't leave, Nyota…_

He watched as she breathed in a deep sigh, and then slowly exhaled. When she spoke again, her voice was soft.

"If it's worth having, Spock- it's worth fighting for. You never fought for us. I can't be the only person in this relationship any more. I hope you find someone who can give you what you need."

He watched as she exited his quarters. He started to go after her, but something held him still until the doors closed behind her.

Slowly, as if in a daze he walked towards them- to that place where she had been only moments before… Raising one hand to the door he rested his head on it and exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, an inhaling the scent she'd left behind…

Yes. He'd loved Leila. It was a love born of romantic passion and desire. But Nyota…the word _love _not enough. What he felt was deeper. Stronger. Harder…she was the embodiment of_ Shon-ha-lock. _She _engulfed_ him.

In the space of a day…he lost two loves- one from his past…the other- his present and possibly, his future.


	3. Chapter 3 T'Pring

Thanks to Aphrodite, my beta, who understands the value of brutal honesty and isn't afraid to give it!

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Conflicting Ideologies:**

**T'Pring  
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He did not learn the definition of love until much later in life. But early on, he was able to identify other emotional states- like hate and disgust.

His mother had tried to shield him from the prejudices of others, but she could not protect him from the thoughts of she who was his wife.

He had been told this day was to come, and though his face remained placid he could not help but fidget under the weight of the heavy robes he wore. He was immediately reprimanded with a frown from his father, who looked down at his sudden movement.

"_Spock, be still." The seven-year old looked up into the stoic visage of his father- eyes wide. He did not have to say what he was feeling- for in an uncharacteristic moment of warmth, Sarek extended his hand down to his child's. Spock took it._

_Calm, young one. You are to be bonded today._

_In the distance he heard the chime of bells._

_They stood- him and his father, in that place of kalifee. The air was much more humid on this day than it had been in days prior and the stone hearth at the center of the compound cast a flicker of flame around the ancient stone structure. Sarek turned and proceeded to the hearth- striking the gong._

_The sound echoed in his ears and for the first time in his immediate life- young Spock felt…afraid…_

_Soon another group approached and he saw his grandmother T'Pau enter. She was perched on a hand-carriage toted by four guards. Two others carried the ceremonial lirpas. Followed by the hand maidens, another group of Vulcans and finally- a small girl._

_He looked on with wonder at the processional._

"_Come, Spock" Sarek called to him and he walked forward dutifully beside his father. He noted the girl did the same- beside her father as they approached the matriarch._

_T'Pau raised her hand in greeting and obediently he returned it. Their fathers fell back, leaving the two children together in front of the Elder._

"_Kneel, children."_

_They complied._

_He felt warm hands on his face and closed his eyes. He could feel his grandmother's presence- so warm and comforting to him. And soon, he felt another…_

"_As it was in the beginning…"_

_He heard the words, but soon they were oblivious to him as he felt another presence- separate but yet a part of him now._

_The warmth left his face and he opened his eyes in wide-eyed wonder, turning his head to face the girl beside him._

_Big eyes met his own. But there was no trace of the same._

_Suddenly, it felt as if a piece of his mind had closed off- and a sudden chill descended upon him. He blinked rapidly, confused. Through the daze, he heard a voice, not spoken aloud but whispering in the back of his consciousness…a word he had learned the meaning of far too early- yet hurt his soul each time…_

**_Kre'nath_**_... bastard._

_He was too young to identify romantic love…but on this day- he learned the definition of hate._

He had thought his heritage may save him. He had thought he'd escape the ancient drives. But he had been wrong. They called to him and his blood burned….he needed…wanted….He had tried meditation and had failed. There was no other recourse. He was being called back…back to that place he had not set foot upon since he was a child. That place he had secretly rejoiced in avoiding for 27 years, but could do so no longer.

Though his body desired her…his soul did not.

He burned for her physically- but his mind was in turmoil…

_Mr. Spock, she's beautiful! Who is she?_

"_She is T'Pring. My wife."_

He saw the look of shock and sadness pass quickly across the features that had etched their way permanently in his heart and his mind. And the thought that he was yet again the source of her pain hurt him. But the situation could not be helped. How could he tell her that though his body burned for another- it was she who owned his thoughts and occupied his heart? And soon he would be bound to another…forever…never having the opportunity to say the words that danced on his lips but he could not vocalize…

_The sands shifted beneath his feet and he was once again at this place…He heard the familiar sound of bells, and memories from years ago entered his mind as the familiar sight of the wedding party approached. It was now as it had been then…and when he saw her- she was still as beautiful as he remembered. Time had aged her well and he found that he wanted her- there was nothing and no one but her…and soon they would be one…_

He moved as if in a daze- and truly he was locked in one- the flames were too great to ignore and as he moved he knew his thirst would soon be quenched, until…

Kalifee!

**NO!** _No!_ He turned confusedly.

His mind was aflame with traitorous thoughts. How dare she! She who was his wife! She had chosen another and he would kill….kill! Whomever may dare take her from him! She was his! His! Anger stirred in his soul until…

Betrayal hurt, anger- her champion. His friend…

The feel of life draining from his challenger by his hands filled him with a sense of satisfaction he had never felt…and as the fires began to die away he began to focus…

_Oh no_…He stared fixedly at the lifeless body of his captain…guilt and sorrow replacing the former sense of triumph and he turned…

There.

Slowly he walked towards her. She who was his wife.

Why? Why had she betrayed him so?

"_If your captain were victor he would not want me. And so I would have Stonn. If you were victor you would free me because I dared to challenge. And again I would have Stonn. But if you did not free me it would be the same. For you would be gone. And I would have your name and property…and Stonn would still be there."_

_The coldness of her words struck him numb and he felt nothing but contempt and disgust at her treachery._

_It was logical. Flawlessly logical._

Upon returning to the Enterprise, he had believed himself cured of the fires. Until…

He awoke in the night- body wracked with sweat and fire and he needed…needed…they could not go back to Vulcan, he had no mate…unless….no! His mind screamed but his body did not listen as he trembled in the night- at war with himself…Not her…not her….he could not-would not…force this upon her…he loved her…

He did not know when his feet carried him to her door- it was night- the halls were vacant and for that he was grateful…he did not know what to say…or even if he would be able to…how to explain this…this…affliction. _Curse_…a voice in his head hissed_…_

She looked startled when she opened the doors to her quarters and saw him there. His eyes were glassy, unfocused. His hands trembling.

She had known already. As Chief Communications Officer she had access to all incoming and outgoing messages…

She said nothing as she brought him in and his eyes drank in her form hungrily- like water to a dying man, and she was salvation…protection…_peace_…

He advanced on her and she remained still…he saw her eyes close and heard the sharp inhale of her breath, but he could hold on no longer as he moved towards her. He reached out- ripping the thin gown she wore- leaving her body bare to his eyes…and suddenly…it was too much…she didn't refuse him as he took her…his last conscious thought were the choked words he uttered as he took her..._I am sorry_…

He buried himself in her as far as he could go and he felt the warmth of her body encompass him—her tightness clinging to him as he movements grew faster, harder…more frantic, and he was awash in sensations growing more and more intense until he could not hold it any longer and his mind exploded as a flash of heat and fire surged through his body and he felt…_free_…

When he awoke she was still beside him, naked- save for the sheets she had gathered around her body.

He observed the red hand marks that dotted her wrists- the teeth imprints across her neck and breasts and he felt…_Shame._

_He rose and turned away from her, head bowed in his own sorrow and grief…what must she think of him now? He could not bring himself to face her._

_Rising to his feet, he let the sheet fall to the floor and began to move towards his clothing- splayed on the ground. He noted her shredded nightgown…a symbol of his barbarism from the night before…_

"_Spock."_

_He did not know what he had expected. Anger. Outrage…but her tone stopped him in his tracks. There was neither- no emotion there._

_He still could not face her, and he heard the flurry of movement as she rose from her position on the bed to walk towards him._

"_Spock. Look at me. Please."_

_He turned to face her- still not looking at her face. Instead his eyes focused on the ring of bruises…as his eyes traveled up her naked form he was horrified at the pattern of fingers and bite marks on her legs…her hips where he had gripped her tightly…her thighs…were his mouth had feasted…her arms which he had pinned above her head…her breasts…her neck…_

_It was too much, and his control was not yet stable enough. He could not mask his horror and he moved to look away but she grabbed his face in her hands before he could do so and stared into his eyes…_

_In her eyes he saw…love. Compassion…Kindness…concern- not for herself, but for him and he was…overwhelmed…_

_She felt his emotions through her touch and he said nothing-instead he was being filled with her…and he found- she desired him…Him…this...alien…_

"_You are not an alien. You are not a monster…Spock…"_

_He felt her…_

_Desire…_

_Acceptance…_

_She…wanted him…_

"_Yes, Spock…I want you…"_

_That voice…those eyes…that mouth…_

_And again he found himself falling…falling…and it was different now…different than it had been as he moved with her…in her…_

_And they cried out together…and as the world faded to black…he felt…calm…love…peace…happiness….Not his…not hers…theirs…_

It could not last.

He left her sleeping peacefully in the middle of the night. The fever had broken and he was returned to himself. He was almost to the door when she woke and saw him.

"Spock. You're welcome."

He thought he saw a glint of sadness in her eyes, but there was no trace of anger or scorn in her voice.

"Thank you, Lieutenant…you performed…admirably…"

He left.


	4. Chapter 4 Christine

_Author's Note: It took forever for me to write Christine. I worked really hard on her. Started, and stopped this story three times just for her. I know that the nurse is often vilified in fics. And I don't believe her character got a fair shake in TOS. But I wanted to show that Christine is more than what we were given in her character. I know there are alot of people on the Chapel ship- so in the words of New Chapter... "write, post...DUCK!"_

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**The Women He Loved- Christine Chapel**

**A Destiny Deferred**

There was something about Christine Chapel.

It would be an untruth to say that he had not been, nor ever was attracted to her.

He was.

It started slowly- a something he could not explain. She wove herself piece by piece, moment by moment into the very fabric of his being.

She was beautiful in her own right. A sensitive, emotional human woman of the textbook caliber- though that did not diminish her worth or value in any respect.

Christine was a nurturer- a trait that was a credit to her position as head nurse. And she was not unintelligent- possessing keen insights into bio-medical research.

She would have made an excellent choice of companion for any man…but he was not a man. Male- yes. But not a man…

He had used this excuse whenever she got too close to him- falsely attributing his discomfort with her to a lack of want when in essence he felt every inch of her desire…

He desired her, too.

Lust.

Intellectually, he knew that he could dominate Christine. That she would acquiesce to whatever his desires were, not unwelcoming. Though he knew this…

He rejected that part of himself.

And so he stayed away.

But she persisted and he resisted…until he could do so no longer…

When the Psi 2000 virus struck, he was forced to confront both her feelings and his own- though he was not a man, he was half- human- a flaw- Vulcan logic with human emotional control and she pushed and pushed until…

Blue eyes, innocent and wide, looked into his own…and they worked to control him…

_Men from Vulcan treat their women strangely…at least, people say that…but you're part human too…I know you don't…you couldn't…hurt me…would you?_

He wanted to say yes…yes…he could…he would…and he would enjoy every moment of it…it was his nature…it was not hers…

Too soft…too fragile…delicate…

_"I'm in love with you, Mr. Spock. You, the Human Mr. Spock... the Vulcan Mr. Spock... I see things... how honest you are. I know how you feel. You hide it, but you do have feelings. Oh, how we must hurt you... torture you…"_

In truth it was torture…sweet, delicious torture and he could feel his other self…his Vulcan self, presenting at that moment- and he wanted nothing more than to give in to his most primal desires- he wanted desperately for her to cease…to remove her hands…to stop touching him for his loss of control…

He found himself breaking down and it took all his effort to tear himself from her.

"_I am in control of my emotions…"_

But he wasn't. The walls he'd spent a lifetime erecting were crumbling like the sands of Vulcan and he could no longer control the internal battle of his two selves…

They were dissolving and he was dissociating…his human half fighting with the Vulcan urges…

"_I am in control of my emotions…"_

It was later that evening…after the day had passed and he had been restored to his right mind that he had time to sit and analyze exactly what had happened to him.

He had requested privacy from his lover, and she had acquiesced accordingly- innately knowing and understanding. Though she did not know context, she understood need…

His heart hurt.

He had been so close to taking what he wanted- and she would have freely given it. It would have been simple and easy…but as he dwelt upon it...he realized he did not want simple.

He contrasted the lightness of her eyes with the darkness of his lover's…the willowy elegance with the curvaceous sensuality of the other...the transparency and openness of the first with the complexity of the second and he realized…

That he did not want easy…

He could choose two paths, one simple and unconditional, the other rough and rocky…and while any man would be content with the first, in his heart he desired the latter…

And he made his decision that night…to take the road less traveled…

It was a decision that would come again and again for him…

She was there when his Pon Farr hit.

He burned…the desire washing over him in waves, his mind focused on only one thing…to mate…to take…to devour…

He was being called back and he did not want to go, but his body needed…

When she arrived at his door he believed her to be the one…he wanted to take her instantly- focused on what he would do to her as soon as she entered …until he realized she was not…

No matter…he would take…and she would let him…

She was not what he wanted…but she could…

No!

Somewhere his mind screamed at her and he saw fear…genuine fear in her eyes…

And as he threw the platter at her, he was not conscious of it hitting the wall outside or of the stares in the hall. He simply knew he could not- would not…

She was not what he _wanted __**(Nyota)**_or what he_ needed __**(T'Pring)**_but it would have been _easy…_

He regretted his actions towards her.

He did not want her to fear him and he knew she deserved better…much better than the alien he was…his true nature revealed…exposed…

Her words in his mind echoed from months before…

_Men from Vulcan treat their women strangely…at least, people say that…but you're part human too…I know you don't…you couldn't…hurt me…would you?_

Yes.

She would not be able to control him and he would hurt her…Too fragile…too delicate…emotional…so human…

She was not who he wanted…not who he needed…and he knew he would consume her…

_They were being rerouted! No! Did they not understand his need! He burned…He could not…would not go back…he needed release…_

_He had been confined to quarters…it suited him well…temptation walked the halls…around every corner they were there…inviting, hypnotizing…and his desire mounting…_

_He was in bed when she approached…_

_He sniffed…arousal…_

_His animal self kicked in- tempting, seducing…_

_She was not what he wanted…not what he needed…but he could…oh! He would…._

_Ms. Chapel._

_Yes, Mr. Spock?_

_I had the most startling dream…you were trying to tell me something. And I couldn't hear you…_

_It would be illogical for us to protest against our natures…don't you think?_

He advanced on her…like a leopard stalking its prey…and he watched with satisfaction as she quaked before him with apprehension and desire…he could smell her arousal,..It would have been so simple…a partner…she could alleviate his physical urges, but she could not temper the psychological desires- and he needed the physical and the mental…

_I don't understand…_

_Your face is wet…_

_I came to tell you we are bound for Vulcan. We'll be there in two days…_

_Vulcan._

_Ms. Chapel-_

_My name is Christine…_

_Yes, I know, Christine._

_Would you make me some of that Plomeek Soup?_

He would not…A test. A test of what will he had remaining…

And then…

_Christine was gone._

_And before him was she…his desire…Nyota…_

_He took her, mind to mind, body to body and through her he felt…release…acceptance…_

_She saw him at his weakest, most vulnerable, brutal…and yet…he saw no fear…_

_Only love…acceptance…_

_And he knew in his soul…it would not have been the same with Christine…_

_He could not to do her what he did to Uhura…she was too delicate…too fragile…she would have broken…she could not control him…he would have broken her…_

It had been a clever move. Henoch may have had his body, but he did not have his mind. He was in a place no one would think to look and for just a moment in time… he became more intimate with Christine than he'd ever thought to be.

They had been of one mind, one body- hers…and through the experience he realized the depths of her feelings for him.

He could not even begin to return them- he was simply incapable of it. Incapable of giving her what she desired, and in truth she deserved one who could fulfill all her emotional needs.

He was not that. Could never be that. She would demand more than what he could give her…and he knew…just as Nyota had walked away from him…Christine would too- she was empathetic…and sensitive…he would overtake her…dominate her-

_Until the day he was forced to break her._

_He broke Christine._

_The Platonians broke Christine._

_He had been torn in two and they had picked apart his psyche. Invaded his mind and stolen and exploited his demons and laid them bare._

_They had brought forth the women of his desires…one light, one dark…one temptation, the other consummation- and they had taken pleasure in his pain as they played him back and forth…_

_They knew his heart and his mind and made him take – made her take…_

_Forcing them together…allowing him to watch his lover with another man while he was with Christine, and he had always known her desires, always knew what she wanted from him. He did not give it because he knew she could not handle it, and yet here they were, the two of them…and now there was no choice. No option…_

_He took…she took…and it hurt. Regret and sorrow welled in his soul, and when she spoke her desires…_

_I've always wanted you…but not like this…_

_Not like this…_

_Not like this…_

_He watched as his lover was forced to consummate with his best friend…_

_And anger…pure, unadulterated anger came to the surface…_

_And he was powerless..._

_Powerless to stop it._

_Powerless to defend her against it…_

_His Nyota. With Kirk._

_And he…with Christine…a woman he may have desired…a woman who he cared for…a woman he wanted to protect…but a woman he did not love…_

_He was in deep meditation back aboard the Enterprise._

_Upon their return, the five of them had gone their separate ways. To each their own to contemplate…and recover…_

_He knew he had lost something that day…knew that he and Christine would never be the same…_

_For she had seen in him his true desire…knew that she was not the one…and he was aggrieved…for having her learn of Nyota in that way…_

He sat meditating…the fires from the pot dancing in front of him, causing the red curtains in his room to glow and billow like a dream…it was dark…

He was barely aware of the alert of the visitor.

Did not move though he sensed her enter…He was still…his mind torn…

He felt soft, strong hands wrap around his neck.

He felt long legs, wrap around his waist, and a cascade of black hair fall across his neck.

He still did not move.

Neither did she.

They had not been this intimate in months. She did not belong to him-but to another. Yet she was here in his time of darkness. A comfort, warm and familiar- something he so desperately needed to cleave to. Though he could not tell her of his need for her, she seemed to sense it.

And they remained there. She- wrapped around him. Touching and yet not.

And silence.

It was as it had always been. She was the first to break it.

"You never spoke of Christine."

"It was not warranted."

"The Platonians tapped into desires- she is one of yours."

"I desired Christine…"

"And me."

He could not lie.

"And you."

"And yet, you chose me. Why?"

It was a simple request. One not made to appease her own ego, or of vainglorious feminine rivalry. She was above that. She sought to understand. To know. It was something that no matter how he tried to look at it, he could not see with Christine.

Two people-once lovers. Now friends and yet so much deeper still…

The truth…the truth…

The truth of the matter was that he loved her…

That word…

The word he could never say…

"We can't go back, Spock."

"I know this, Nyota."

"If you love her- go to her. I have M'Benga. He loves me. Give her the opportunity to love you."

"I do not understand-"

"I don't want to hear that. I know you feel. You can hide from everyone else. But you can't hide from me."

He turned to face her then, untangling her limbs from his until he was now facing her, both still seated.

He advanced quickly, not allowing her room to escape him…overcome with the desire to have her.

And he reached, pulling her down under him as he looked into the depths of those eyes that had stolen his soul and made him hers…the truth…

The real reason why he couldn't love Christine…

Because he loved Nyota…

The mere mention of Dr. M'Benga made his body burn with possessive jealousy, and her profession meant well but ate at the hole in her heart…

His voice was low, unmasked and seeped with his desires…

"You say he loves you. Do you love him as well?"

She matched him and they met. Two hearts…one soul…and he knew if he could break through…get through…

"Do you love me, Spock?"

It took him back. And he recoiled as if hit by phaser fire…her words…so true…so true… and he wanted to scream that yes! Yes he loved her…as un-Vulcan and human as it was to love he did …

But the words he could not say…

And so he released her…

Rising to his feet and again turning from her…

The truth…

He loved her…and that love wouldn't allow him to fully open to Christine.

Christine Chapel was not Nyota Uhura.

Unspoken. Un-acknowledged. But there nonetheless…

And then…a flicker…fleeting, soft touch…

_Her hand on his…_

Unspoken yet heard so clearly…

_I love you, Spock…but I know when to say goodbye…_

And like a whisper, she was gone again from him.

And though he maintained his Vulcan calm, he was only half of that- a creature of two worlds with Vulcan emotions and human control…

Both united by one force stronger than he…

Nyota…the woman he loved…


	5. Chapter 5 The Female Romulan Commander

_Author's Note: I apologize for my absence from this fic. This particular chapter has been very challenging to write. I would like to thank the TFTSS for her eye for detail. _

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The Women He Loved: The Romulan Commander**

"**Faded Pictures, Broken Glass"  
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The mission was top-secret. Only Kirk and Spock were to know. It was simple. Steal the cloaking device. Spock had it planned perfectly. But that plan was thrown out the door when he saw her.

Very few things in the universe surprised him. An intricate working knowledge of Romulan culture dictated that women were considered as equals. And even though he'd read her profile, there had been no picture attached to it.

The kill count was high. The level of tactical knowledge was impressive. And yet throughout the .appraisal of his kinsmen's prowess in battle, it had not mentioned the sex.

And so when he saw her, he realized that this Romulan warrior they would confront was female.

He was impressed at the fact she was in command. He knew from personal experience it was not an easy task. She was intelligent, passionate, and she didn't back down. In many ways, this beautiful Romulan reminded him of another…

It was partly because of this that led him to seduce her. His logical mind justified it as a necessity- establishing a distraction for Kirk…but his mortal body knew the truth. He enjoyed it. She was soft in his arms. And although her feelings were sincere for him, he had been ruled with something other than his mind…it was a tension only a female could alleviate for him…and since he could not have to one he desired…

He could smell her arousal the moment he entered her vicinity. And he knew her desires just as he knew his own. It would not matter the outcome of this…there would be no attachment from either of them. They were officers. Of the same blood yes, but equally distant. Emotions played no role here- only proximity, opportunity and…._desire_…

It was in her quarters that she propositioned him- their words imbued with the verbal foreplay indicative of their mutual interests…

"_I've had special Vulcan dishes prepared for you. I hope they're to your liking…" _

The arch of her neck and the way her neck moved indicated a willingness….and he knew that it was not the consumption of food that she was indicating . Her words spoke one language… her body spoke another.

"_Romulan women are not like Vulcan females. We are not dedicated to pure logic and the sterility of non-emotion. Our people are warriors. Often savage…but we are also many other pleasant things…as a Vulcan you would study it. As a human you would find ways to appreciate it…"_

Her invitation was clear and he accepted it, his voice low, his own body responding in kind as he moved from his place to focus on her, looking into eyes that were entreating him …imploring him…

"_Believe me…I do appreciate it."_

Rarely did such opportunities for release allow themselves to become apparent, and here was a partner who would accept his officer and he could be as he truly was…

***

It was not the human way.

Copulation with the Romulan had been different. It was something more familiar to him- that defined him. He appreciated the sensuality of the experience. As he stroked her and she leaned into his touch he could feel her and soon…he was in her… She craved him. Urged him on and he pushed her…it was mutual.

The experience was surreal. A something he had never dare attempt and yet right in all ways but _one_…and that one he dare not dwell on as she beckoned to him, whispering insinuations in his ear that the repressed Vulcan in him longed to achieve…

He saw into her mind. Her hopes, her dreams, her aspirations and deepest desires. He saw what she truly wanted of him and he realized he could not give her that…but it was too late…she was entrapped by him…a butterfly with clipped wings…

"_It is regrettable that you were made an unwilling passenger. It was not intentional. All the Federation wanted was the cloaking device."_

_He could feel her hurt, though she refused to admit such as she scoffed. "The Federation. And what did __**you**__ want?"_

_His answer had been honest. He realized later it had also been unsatisfactory. "Military secrets are the most fleeting of all. I hope that you and I exchanged something more permanent."_

_And yet, she spoke of more…more than he could give...more than he could accept…_

"_It was your choice." _

_And he knew with certainty that they would never come together in this life again._

"_It was the only choice possible. You would not respect any other."_

_*******_

Afterwards his mind had been troubled.

What had been simple had become complex and entangled and impossible for him to sort.

The Romulan had wanted to be his. And his mind and body had both desired her. They had both been ruthless. Out for satisfaction of self and yet somehow, some way…she had-

He paused, contemplating the emotions he had felt from her...so familiar and similar to…

Suddenly his thoughts coalesced into a truth that he had no option but to accept.

As his mind replayed scene by scene their intimacy it was filled with pauses…gaps…stops…

At each point a familiar face appeared to him…and his own words said long ago came back…_wanting…is not as rewarding as having_…He had wanted The Commander. He had _had_ the Commander. And still he was not satisfied.

She had fulfilled a physical need. A psychological need…but she could not fill his mental or emotional need…in that regard he would always be dead to her.

As he pondered and meditated over the events of the day he felt increasingly disturbed…as his mind raced with the conversations he'd had upon his return to the Enterprise…

When the Commander materialized with him on the transporter- her arms around him and out of uniform it was obvious to the rest of the crew what he had done, though none had brought his transgressions to light. He did not acknowledge his fellow crewman on the bridge as she stood behind him, facing her ship on the viewer. She was angry. She felt betrayed. She'd actually loved him. He could not discern what it was he felt for her…or if he felt anything at all…

In the end He was able to leave her, just as he'd left the others. Just as he'd allowed himself to leave the one woman his heart yearned for…

_Nyota_…hers was the face that filled each pause, each stopped moment…hers was the image that lingered…that held him back…

As he entered the bridge she had bore witness to the Commander's anger. He realized now that the look she had given him was one he had seen before….

_Disappointment._ It ate at him. A silent reprimand…and he realized in that moment that he had only pushed her still further away…

The Captain would later ask him, in confidence, what he did to make the Romulan Commander fall in love with he would reply, "I used two fingers".

To which Kirk would spit the coffee he was drinking all over the table in front of him. Spock would walk out, hearing the captain mutter "I see why Vulcans are touch-telepaths" and he'd feel deeply ashamed of himself. Not for what he'd done to the Romulan Commander, but for the fact that Nyota had been witness to his transgressions…and his image in her eyes was the only thing that mattered…

He was not worthy…and she was happy…with a man that was not him.


	6. Chapter 6 Droxine

_Author's Note: I apologize for the lateness of this...I know its been a while. I really don't know who is still reading, but thanks a million- alas, my body of work is slowing down- Reality has a way of...well...getting in the way. Enjoy.  


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The Women He Loved- Droxine**

"**Is There No Truth In Beauty?"  
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It was in the third year of their first five year mission and his second tour of duty that he learned that beauty alone was not enough.

She was introduced to him as a work of art and he found the moment he gazed upon her that the description was not just an exercise in superlatives. The description was quite apt. Tall and slim, fair and delicate. Big, light blue eyes and long, blonde hair. Her style of dress enthralled him- she was reminiscent of the priestesses of his home world. Enthralling.

Droxine.

They lived in a city in the clouds, a people separated from the other half of their race who toiled on the terra below.

Such beauty in a place filled with profound inequities of position. The juxtaposition of the reality and circumstance were not lost upon him. And yet…he was drawn to her…purity and sweetness of mind.

She wanted him. She had made her intentions quite clear. He responded in kind. Their desires masked under layers of verbal foreplay…

It was in the vestibule that he had sought her out.

"_You only take a mate once every seven years?" she had asked, looking into his eyes, her passions unmasked._

"_The seven-year cycle is biologically inherent in all Vulcans. At that time, the mating drive outweighs all other motivations," he replied, leaning in closer to her…willing her…_

"_And is there nothing that can disturb that cycle, Mister Spock?" He saw her look- completely unabashed as her eyes skimmed his body- and he knew he had her…_

"_Extreme feminine beauty is always disturbing, madam." He spoke lowly, his breath caressing the side of her neck._

_They were soon interrupted by the sounds of struggle in the next room. Troglytes._

Later he would reflect that such intense beauty could only be marred by such blind prejudice. It came when he and Droxine interrupted an attack on his captain, from the Trogylite, Vanna. As he listened to Droxine speak to her counterpart, he began to grow concerned…

"_But Stratos is for advisors and studiers. What would Troglytes do here?" she had commented, her voice reflecting the ferment of her beliefs. Vanna had replied, "Live in the sunlight and warmth, as everyone should." _

"_The caverns are warm and your eyes are not accustomed to light, just as your minds are not accustomed to logic,"Droxine had replied. Her conviction has struck at something deep within him._

Memories of childhood taunts on his own perceived inferiority from other Vulcan youth momentarily flooded his consciousness. And he saw her then…not as the beauty before him, but as a creature, lovely, but deeply, inherently flawed.

"_Unaccustomed to light and warmth? That's necessary to all humanoids. Surely, you don't deny it to the Troglytes," the captain had questioned. _

_And Droxine had replied, "The Troglytes are workers, Captain. Oh surely, you must be aware of that. They mine Zenite for shipment, till the soil. Those things cannot be done here."_

_He himself had remarked that the Trogylites were little more than slaves, performing all the physical toil necessary to maintain Stratos._

"_That is their function in our society," she decreed. "How can they share what they do not understand?" _

Later he would mourn the tainting of her innocent mind. He found it difficult to restore the previous desire he had felt for her after she spoke of things that lanced at the core of his very being- as if such things were infallible truth- without question in the universe.

It was one thing to be naïve. Willful ignorance he could not condone.

And so as he and his Captain worked to bring enlightenment to the inhabitants of Ardana, to bridge the gap of inequality between the people of the clouds and those of the surface. He found he could not reconcile the dissonance that existed between beauty and prejudice. For all that was beautiful was not necessarily good. And what was good, was not always pleasant or beautiful.

Droxine.

She was an exercise in disappointment. And yet, in the end…he still believed that her mind could be opened…and she could learn. But as with many lessons that had to be taught, this was one he could not tell. She must be shown…and so, they had stood there, in the place where they had begun only hours before, facing each other as she tried once again to appeal to him.

"_Stratos is so pleasant and so beautiful. I think I'm afraid to leave it." _

_He had chosen his words to her, though vague- they were imbued and laced with hidden meaning she would have to learn for herself…_

"_There is great beauty in the knowledge that lies below, and only one way to really experience it."_

He had been… _grateful _to leave the planet. And Droxine too. He was disappointed in her short-sightedness. But he believed, over time, her eyes would open, and her own biases would evaporate.

She was an acceptable woman. Worthy of being a mate to another. Not him.

Her mind was tainted… though she possessed the will to learn, he was could not be her teacher.

He had left physically sated, though not emotionally satisfied. And now, as he sat in meditation, he still refused to acknowledge the pull in the back of his mind…a _truth_…he continued to willfully ignore…

There was and could only be one.

For Droxine could not be entirely faulted for her own lack of awareness…sometimes the truth was difficult to accept. And even more laborious to bear.

The name was as quiet as the faintest of ghosts flitting across his subconscious…growing louder as he worked to control…

_Nyota…_


	7. Chapter 7 Zarabeth

_Author's Note: I am pleased to report that this work is finished. There is only one more chapter left after this one and it will be posted tomorrow morning. A big thank you goes to the women of Writer's Anonymous and the STCC Writer's Guild and extra credit is given to Tea Oli and SpockLikesCats for suffering for over an hour and helping me work and re-work ONE sentence. Your patience and efforts are appreciated._

**

* * *

  
The Women He Loved**

**Zarabeth- "Love Everlasting"**

It was the most painful lesson he had ever been taught. And he would bear the emotional scars of it for far longer. _Zarabeth. _When he thought of her it caused him physical pain- a pain which he could not deny. For in the span of three hours they had made five-thousand years of memories…

***

She had found him and saved him when he could not save himself. She had sheltered him and fed him when he could not do the same.

It was in the icy colds of the Sarpeidon caves that he found something that burned within him, ignited him and fueled a passion he had always worked to submerge and bury.

Zarabeth.

They had beamed down to this planet hours before its sun was to go nova. He, Kirk and Dr. McCoy had explored the vast library, and had been taken back in time- searching for where the inhabitants had gone. It was five thousand years in Beta Naiobi's past that he found her. Exiled back in the ice age she shone like a beacon and it was of his own volition that he willfully followed.

He was…tired.

Tired of the battle, of the inner war he waged. As he pondered eternity in this frozen wasteland his mind began to consider every face of every woman he had ever loved and he began to realize what he had willfully given away.

Suddenly…eternity seemed like such a long time to spend alone.

Zarabeth. From the moment he saw her, she had accepted him as he was. There in the warmth of the caves, sheltered among the skins, safe from the cold she had revealed herself to him.

"_What are you called" Blue eyes looked upon his inquisitively. She was curious, and he answered her._

_I am Spock." He focused his attentions on the good doctor who was sleeping on the bed of skins, his face pale and slightly blue due to exposure._

"_Even your name is strange. Forgive me. I've never seen anyone who looks like you. Why are you here? Are you prisoners too?"_

_Prisoner_. How apt a description. He had been a prisoner in his own mind. Sealing himself off from the warmth of others. Whereas she had been forced into this life he had willfully accepted a fate he now saw he did have to choose…Prisoner…trapped inside the strong walls of his carefully erected logical strictures. But, no longer. Here, there was no one.

No one to see him. No one to judge him. No one who could label him and only one… one who could accept him.

And as time passed- how long he could not say- he began to warm to the thought and accept his situation. That other life was gone, regret was illogical when here- here was an opportunity to be as he desired. To allow himself to express what he had kept hidden. And she- she allowed him to simply… _be._

"_This is my time now. I've had to face that. But it has been so lonely here. Do you know what it's like to be alone? Really alone?"_

"_Yes, I know what it is like." _

_Loneliness was a self- made purgatory. Slowly a face appeared in his mind. He was uncertain as to who it was…but he… felt pulled towards it- brown skin, brown eyes… a jarring contrast to the fire red hair, creamy skin and blue eyes he stared into now… that woman…was she from his past- no- his future? Images from long ago, no—they had never been, had they? He allowed himself to immerge in his current situation, focusing on the woman before him, watching her lips as she began to speak._

"_There aren't many luxuries around here. Zor Kahn only left me what was necessary to survive."_

_He slowly took her offering. __**MEAT**__. Animal flesh…as he chewed slowly his eyes roamed over her skin…and somehow…the irony of his partaking of animal flesh became a living analogy…_

"_Insensitive. To send such a beautiful woman into exile." _

_The words eased from his lips and suddenly his mind was once again thrown into turmoil. Had he said such a thing? Communicated his thoughts in such a way? It was not like him. He moved towards her, pulling her into his arms and lay her down on the animal skin trappings. Slowly he began to unwrap her from the skins that sheltered her nudity from him. He came to rest on top of her…warm hands tangling in his hair and silken thighs wrapping around his hips as he tasted her. His last functioning thought as he joined his body with hers, was that she was the most perfect woman he had ever known…and suddenly…eternity didn't feel quite so long…_

It was McCoy who pulled him back from the brink.

"_You said we can't get back. The truth is __**you**__ can't get back." _

_The doctor's words streamed into his confused mind as he looked from his lover to the doctor. McCoy was incorrect. They were here forever. She was here forever…and he was here with her… _

"_She would do anything to prevent that life of loneliness. She would lie. She would cheat. She would even murder me, the captain, the entire crew of the Enterprise to keep you here with her. Go ahead, Zarabeth, tell Spock the truth. Go ahead. Tell Spock you would kill!_

Rage blinded him. He was filled with anger and acrimony, steeped in mutual hostility borne of years of insults left unanswered. But no more!

"_Are you trying to kill me, Spock? _Is_ that what you really want? Think. What are you feeling? Rage? Jealousy? Have you ever had those feelings before?_

_Feelings… his head swam as the words sank in…mirroring his own sinking heart as he began to realize…no…no…please….no…._

_He turned to his lover…his mate…the truth he did not know if he could bear…but he had to know…_

"_Can we go back?"_

_She refused to meet his eyes, confirming his own fear. He could hear the hurt and sadness in her voice echoing his own wildly fluctuating emotions._

"_I do not know. All I know is I can't go back."_

_It was the moment his world ended._

_***_

In the end he could not stay. He could not doom another to a life he would have willfully chosen had it been only his own. But he was forced to consider the doctor. And it was only the doctor that guided him back. They crossed through the portal in time to see the librarian rush through.

They stood, side by side as their captain's attention turned to hail the Enterprise.

Externally, he was calm. Internally…he raged…pain, hurt, anger, sadness…grief…

He could feel the doctor's silent gaze upon him.

"_There is no further need to observe me, doctor. As you can see I have returned to the present in every sense."_

_McCoy's looks never wavered. "But it did happen, Spock."_

_Silence. A beat. Two._

"_Yes, it happened. But that was five thousand years ago. And she is dead now. Dead and buried. Long ago."_

_Dead. He could not disguise the bitter despondency in his voice. _ He did not believe his own words, and he could tell the Doctor did not believe them either. It was mercifully silent as they beamed back aboard the Enterprise.

And now, standing upon the bridge, they watched as the sun went nova, and destroyed the planet, taking with it a piece of him.

Slowly he turned away from the viewer and began walking silently towards the turbolift. As he passed the communications console a vague image floated through his mind; but it was swallowed up by the well of despair flowing through him as he made his way into the chamber, and then down the corridor, and into the sanctity of his quarters…searching for relief. For- _something. Anything, _to keep him from the black pit of despair he was slowly falling in.

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	8. Chapter 8 Nyota

**  
The Women He Loved- Nyota**

"**All The World Is Changed"  
**

They had finished the de-briefing four point- six hours ago and he had immediately retreated to his quarters. Meditation would do him no good. He had tried. He had…failed. The cool, red, glow of the remnants of his efforts were the only illumination in an otherwise pitch black room. He had failed. He could not save her and, he…_grieved._

Each moment was still fresh, the pain still sharp. The… _feelings_ of joy, of passion, of…_life._ He had _felt_ those things. He had _lived_ those things. He had…_cherished_…those things. And ultimately, he had _lost_ those things.

She had died five-thousand years ago…and yesterday was today.

He had lived a life of restriction, of adamant, un-yielding loyalty to logic. He had sacrificed for logic. He had slaved for logic, and yet- ultimately it had failed him, leaving him bare and open. He _felt_…and it hurt.

The sound of the door beeped for entry, sounding like a far away call to his sensitive ears. He did not respond. He had requested to not be disturbed…

***

What had possessed her to come here she did not know. What she would say to him she did not know. They were not exactly friends, far from being lovers. And still- she knew.

She had known. The moment she had seen him upon the landing party's return to the ship- she had known. She could read him better than anyone. She had always been able to do so. She could feel his hurt though he said nothing. He maintained his normal demeanor. But still, she could tell.

And now, four hours later, she was here at his door. One finger paused in the air. Finally, she made her decision and quickly keyed in his code, surprised when the doors opened for her. It had been years since the last time she had used it…and in that time, it had never changed.

Instantly she was confronted by a sea black. She stepped forward tentatively into the darkness, the doors swooshing closed behind her. "Spock?"

She was greeted by silence instantly felt foolish. But as she turned to leave she heard him. "I am here."

She became aware of the dim glow of the firepot in the corner, and slowly her eyes adjusted to the absence of light and she could make out his form. He was unlike she had ever seen him. And it occurred to her, that no one else would ever see their first officer like this. He would not allow it.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his normally straight shoulders slumped, his head down. The sound of his voice was hoarse and gravelly- far from its normal rich tenor. The air around them was thick with emotion and she realized that what she was feeling…this…heaviness…this…weight…this_ sorrow_… was his. She had been feeling _him_. His emotions were so strong he was projecting. And suddenly, seeing him there….in that moment, nothing more mattered. He was there. And he was hurting. And she hurt for him.

It was in the darkness that she moved, her body nothing but a shadow as she knelt before him. She could feel the warmth rolling off his body as she perched at his knees, placing her hand gently upon his thigh as she tried to reach him.

"Spock, look at me."

Through the darkness she saw him move his head, and raise his face to hers...she can feel his eyes upon her…and she knows…because she sees her own reflection in them.

And then…all the world seemed to pause.

***

He feels a presence kneel at his feet, a soft hand resting gently on his thigh. The touch is like the glint of knife slicing through the well of his despair. Like a beacon it grows wider…brighter and more vivid and somewhere in that light he hears _her…_

"Spock, look at me."

He raises his head to hers, allowing their eyes to meet and he feels...pulled.

It is a force he can't put in words...but he _feels_...

He feels her... and through the darkness…he_ sees_ her_._

"Spock."

She calls his name again and slowly the darkness around him begins to fade until all there is, is her.

He hears his name on her lips, as he takes in the curve of her face, the width of her eyes and the set of her mouth. He has not been this close to her since…No. Those memories he cannot bear to think on but his head will not comply.

Her voice fills his mind with images from time past. What he had worked to leave buried brought to the surface by his own powerful emotions from the day's events and her presence here. Why? Why was she here? To serve as a living embodiment of his failure?

"_Spock."_

It is her voice that calls to his memory, each frame each moment each time and pause calling back to him like a list – the first time he _saw _her…the first time he _held_ her, the first time he _kissed_ her…the first time he _left_ her. HE left Her, failed her…He had failed, and he had failed her.

He had been a coward when he left Leila.

Hat felt the bitter sting of betrayal by T'Pring.

He had refused to hope, to wish and to dream- unlike Christine.

He had learned to admire inner strength- shown to him by the Romulan.

And Droxine had shown him beauty alone was simply not enough.

In Zarabeth he had felt passion and desire…and…_love_…but it was…not enough.

And now as he sat…contemplating the face in front each woman each moment whizzed through his thoughts…and he realized…

He had wasted years searching for something he could not identify, for something he would not name. And yet, here, in this moment…everything he desired… had been right in front of him the entire time.

Every _single_ time, at every _single_ point- **she** had been right there and he was too blind to see it- Too stubborn to acknowledge it. But now he could refuse no longer.

Zarabeth was gone from him. She had loved him. She had revealed his inner self- showing him what he could be and _should _be. But that was five thousand years ago…and right now, his future- was looking right at him. And **she** had been there all along.

Breaking through the wall of darkness he spoke HER name…a name that had constantly bordered on the edge of his thoughts. And now, after everything…he could finally speak what he'd spent years refusing to acknowledge…

And now the darkness fades, the shadows retreat and soon he sees everything with intense lucidity. And in that moment all the world is changed and the silence between them is broken as he says **HER** name.

"_Nyota."_

-**The End-**

_The face of all the world is changed, I think,  
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul  
Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole  
Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink  
Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,  
Was caught up into love, and taught the whole  
Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole  
God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,  
And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear.  
The names of country, heaven, are changed away  
For where thou art or shall be, there or here;  
And this . . . this lute and song . . . loved yesterday,  
(The singing angels know) are only dear  
Because thy name moves right in what they say._

_**Sonnet Seven from, " Sonnet's from the Portuguese" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning**_

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_**  
Author's Note: Thank you to the women of Writer's Anonymous and the STCC Writer's Guild. Thank you to everyone who waited for over Five months for this story to be completed, I had not planned for it to take that long (especially considering there are only eight chapters). What started off as something that was meant to be less serious, really turned into a sort of character study for me. So I thank you all for hanging around long enough to see this story to its completion. And for those of you waiting on something new from me, please stay tuned. I have received many requests to do a Sarek and Amanda fic. Since the TOS side is full of them, I have decided to switch back to the 2009 AU, where my Sarek/Amanda story called, "Alekhine's Gun" will be posted. Look out for the Prologue tomorrow.  
**_


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